Hunter: SPNxLG Crossover
by solo23
Summary: In the summer of 1996, the Winchesters stumble upon a hunt that is more complicated than they thought. Dean is captured by the Fae and returns with a secret. What will happen when worlds collide? Will Dean make it out alive? Hurt!Dean, Worried!Sam. SPN/Lost Girl Crossover. Starts Pre-season and spans over many seasons for both shows.


**AN: **Since Lost Girl never specifies what city/town it is supposed to be taking place in, I'm putting it in Toronto where it is filmed. This isn't exactly ideal since I've never been to Canada, but lets just roll with it (or any Canadian readers can correct my many mistakes). **There will probably be spoilers for all seasons of both shows in later chapters and in the character guide**.

**Lost Girl Major Character Guide:**

Hale: Siren. Detective for the 39th Division. Light Fae. Best friend of Dyson, also close to Trick. His family is one of the three major clans.

Dyson: Wolf-shifter. Detective for the 39th Division. Former soldier. Light Fae. Best friend of Hale, also close to Trick.

The Ash: Title of the leader of the Light Fae. Season 1 Ash is never named and has control over plant life.

The Morrigan: Title of the leader of the Dark Fae. Name is Evony Fleurette Marquise. Leanan sidhe. Talent agent.

Bo: Succubus. Private detective. Learned about her powers before she found out about the fae. Unaligned (neither Light nor Dark fae). On again off again girlfriend of Dyson. Friend of Kenzi, Hale, and Trick.

Kenzi: Human. Russian. Best friend of Bo. Helps Bo with cases. Has many contacts in the area. Thief/con. Friend of Hale, Dyson, and Trick.

Lauren: Human. Doctor. Slave of the Light Fae. Sometimes girlfriend of Bo. Friend of Hale, Bo, and Kenzi. Tolerated by Dyson.

Trick: Blood King. Bartender. Light Fae. Grandfather of Bo. Friend of Dyson, Hale, Kenzi, and Lauren…and pretty much everyone else because he has booze.

Vex: Mesmer. Club owner. Hit man. Dark Fae. Not really a friend to anyone.

**Supernatural Major Character Guide:**

John Winchester: Hunter. Father of Dean and Sam. Former Marine. Wife was killed by the yellow-eyed demon (Azazel). Raised his sons as hunters. Often left the boys alone while he went hunting. Disappeared in 2005. Died in 2006 to save Dean.

Dean Winchester: Hunter. Oldest son. Womanizer. Skilled and intelligent, but hates research. Protecting Sam is his #1 priority. Mother was killed when he was four. Hunts so he can save people. Sold his soul and went to hell to bring Sam back from the dead. Raised from hell by Castiel.

Sam Winchester: Hunter (reluctantly). Youngest son. Attempted to leave hunting behind and went to Stanford. Enjoys research. Doesn't get into hunting until his girlfriend Jess is killed. Mother was killed when he was six months old exactly. Demon blood addiction.

Bobby Singer: Hunter. Surrogate father of Dean and Sam. Killed his wife when she was possessed by a demon. Go-to guy for hunters.

Castiel: Angel. Lower order. Raised Dean from hell. Sides with the Winchesters against Heaven.

Ellen Harvelle: Bar owner. Hunter. Friend of the Winchesters. Husband was killed by John when he was severely injured during a hunt. Mother of Jo. Killed on a suicide mission.

Jo Harvelle: Hunter. Friend of the Winchesters. Daughter of Ellen. Killed on a suicide mission.

**Toronto, July 1996**

They never should have come to Canada. They rarely took jobs across the border because mixing fake passports and border patrol had even greater potential for disaster than their usual assortment of alternate identities. That alone made John nervous. Add in that he wasn't as familiar with Canadian agencies and police and, hell, laws, as he was American and the chances of getting caught went up even more significantly. John didn't know what would happen to him and his boys if they were caught here illegally, especially while impersonating police officers, but it couldn't be good.

He never thought he would lose one of his boys while he was across the border. Or, if he did, he thought it would be to the government and, while it would be a difficult situation, he would at least know that the boys were safe. Instead, Dean had been helping him on the hunt, old enough at seventeen to pass for a relatively new cop, when they had split up to make sure all the Redcaps were dead. The damn things had scattered when he and Dean showed up and John wasn't going to leave any alive. Dean never showed up at the rendezvous point.

John waited for half an hour in the graffitied alley. Then he traced Dean's planned route, watching for any sign of his son. A block away Dean's bronze amulet lay on the ground, leather cord looking as though it'd been torn off in a struggle. Dean never took that amulet off and he wouldn't have left it lying there if he'd had a choice. Fear and despair churned in John's stomach and a muttered denial broke free. He tried to find a sign indicating where Dean could have been taken, but the street was completely devoid of life. No witnesses, no signs, no tracks could be found to guide him.

Taking a deep breath and pushing down the terror threatening to overwhelm him, John silently vowed to find his son as he headed back to his black '67 Chevy Impala. He pulled out his cell phone to call Sam, his thirteen-year-old son, and let him know that he would be coming back later than planned. He wasn't going to tell him that Dean disappeared, though. No need to worry him if John didn't have to, their relationship was shaky enough already. Sam did not approve of their lifestyle, perpetually traveling to hunt down supernatural creatures. He would never forgive John if the hunt got Dean killed.

After delivering the short message to Sam and hanging up before the kid could press for more information, he contemplated where to start searching for Dean. He didn't know the area well, as he'd never been to Toronto before, and there had been no sign of Dean anywhere. After a fruitless search through the Redcaps' lair, he reluctantly went to the police. He hated to involve them, but he had no clue about the area and he couldn't even be sure that Redcaps were responsible for Dean's disappearance. The abundance of graffiti in the area indicated a large gang presence and, while Dean was as good a fighter as any soldier John had encountered, he would be hard pressed to take on an entire gang alone.

A distracted police officer waived John back to "the detectives because they always took the missing persons cases." Without a particular detective named, John wandered through the station and hoped no one noticed how uncomfortable he felt. A black man wearing a fedora finally noticed him, "Hi, I'm Detective Hale. Is there something we can help you with?"

John nodded in response, "Yeah, John Winston. I'm visiting here with my sons. This afternoon my oldest wanted to go check out Toronto and he hasn't come back. I checked out where he was going and I found the pendant he always wears, but there's no sign of him. I read about a few missing persons cases here lately and it's not like Dean to disappear without checking in."

The detective nodded, but looked somewhat torn, "Are you sure he didn't just find someone to hang out with and lost track of time? I get your concern, but if he's only been gone for the afternoon—"

"I know my son, Detective," John interrupted, fighting to control his temper. Dean wouldn't disappear, not on a hunt. Something else was going on. The detective did have a point, and in the US they wouldn't even listen to a missing persons case until they'd been gone for at least twenty-four hours. "If you can't look into it yet, could you give me some idea of where to start looking? His pendant was in the less touristy side of town, some alley with a bunch of graffiti."

John pretended not to hear the desperation in his voice. He wished he'd brought another hunter as backup, maybe Bobby or Caleb. And he really didn't want to have to tell Sam that he'd lost his brother.

The detective frowned and rubbed his eyes. He looked like he might have some information, but wasn't sure if he should share it with John. The way today was going, he was probably worried about sending John into a dangerous part of town and wouldn't give him anything useful. "I'll tell everyone to keep an eye out for him, but there isn't really anything we can do yet. Best thing for you to do is go home and wait. He might come back later. Do you have a recent picture of your son? Or a description I can give my officers? And I'll need a phone number where I can reach you in case we find anything."

John gave the detective his phone number and the photo he'd used to make Dean's passport. He hoped the detective would assume it was a school picture and, really, the detective had no reason to suspect otherwise. John still wasn't completely comfortable going to the police for help given the numerous offenses he was currently committing. With no further use for him, the detective directed John to go home and call if Dean made it home on his own.

**SPNLGSPNLGSPNLGSPNLGSPNLGSPNLGSPNLGSPNLG**

"Dyson!" Hale called as the bearded blond entered the station. John Winston had just left and Hale had a feeling the guy's son was the most recent victim of the Redcaps who had gone on a rampage recently. The Light were frustrated with The Morrigan's blatant disregard for the Redcaps' actions. The kills were sloppy and bodies kept turning up. If the Dark didn't get a handle on it soon, life was going to get a lot more difficult.

Dyson wandered over to his desk across from Hale, "What've you got?"

"Had a guy in here a few minutes ago looking for his son. Kid went out this afternoon and didn't come back," Hale explained, handing the picture over to Dyson, "Get this—he disappeared on the Redcaps' hunting ground."

Dyson's expression darkened. Dealing with Dark Fae hunting grounds would make this case harder. It also made it more likely that this was a case and not just an overprotective dad with a normal teenage son. "We're going to have to talk to The Morrigan. If the Redcaps are involved, this is gonna be complicated."

Hale nodded his agreement as he grabbed the slim file. They would have to convince The Ash to get them a meeting with The Morrigan. While that was being set up, he had no doubt Dyson would want to do a little investigating to see if they could find the kid before the Redcaps killed him. It had only been a few hours, but it was probably too late already. Redcap victims didn't tend to last long.

Dyson hung up the phone, finishing his report to The Ash. As they headed to the location John had given them, Hale asked, "What's the plan? Think you can pick up the kid's scent from the picture or are we really going to bust into the Redcaps' territory? The Ash won't like that, not for a human."

"I can track him if we get close enough. The picture probably has the dad's scent, but families tend to be similar. Do we know anything else about these guys? Like why the kid was out here in the first place?" The whole case was weird. In Dyson's experience, tourists didn't go exploring alleyways. The kid was probably looking for drugs and found himself in a situation he couldn't handle.

Hale sighed and shook his head, "The dad said he wanted to 'go check out Toronto.' I'm surprised the guy even thought to check out here. He said he was worried because his son hadn't checked in and that it wasn't like him. If that's true, the kid is responsible and probably wasn't looking for drugs or alcohol. The dad did know about the missing persons cases, though. Maybe the kid knew, too, and went to play hero?"

Dyson looked skeptical. Hale could hardly blame him, it wasn't like teenage vigilante was a likely explanation. John had seemed pretty convinced that his son was a good kid, though, and he gave off enough of a no-nonsense vibe that Hale doubted he would let the kid get away with drugs. Then again, it wouldn't be the first time he'd heard of a teenager acting out against overbearing parents. He'd done the same. Hell, he was still doing the same.

Dyson took off toward the Redcaps' territory. His eyes were narrowed and lips were tightened into a thin line. Hale hated it when Dyson got that look, it meant that things were worse than they thought. They got to the bar, but it was completely empty. Dyson's expression darkened further, "They're dead. The bodies were all burned over there. The trail got fainter on the way here, not stronger."

"So he ran away from here? Think he had anything to do with this?" Hale asked, dreading the answer. If the Dark thought the kid had anything to do with this, he was dead. Worse, they probably had him already.

Dyson had already pulled out his cell phone to call The Ash. Yeah, he definitely thought that, if nothing else, the Dark thought the kid was involved. "The kid disappeared after leaving the Redcaps' grounds. The Dark must have him, he's either a witness or a hunter, either way he's a liability to them. They aren't going to let him live."

Dyson listened to The Ash and agreed to meet him at the Glass Factory. Neutral ground. They were meeting The Morrigan, too.

**SPNLGSPNLGSPNLGSPNLGSPNLGSPNLGSPNLGSPNLG**

Starting today, he was never going to drink his dad's beer again. Seriously. It was not worth the hangover. His head was throbbing and he felt nauseous. His mind was hazy and his return to consciousness was abnormally slow. As he tried to reach up to massage his throbbing head, adrenaline surged and his eyes flew open. The distinct feeling of metal biting into his wrists and his shoulders burned. His hands were cuffed behind his back.

Dean's predicament worsened as he tried to sit up, only to have his airway cut off. Cool metal dug into his neck and he could hear a chain rattle. The bastards had him chained to the floor like a dog. That was just great. What the hell happened?

With little else to do, Dean tried to sort out how he'd landed in this situation. He remembered they were on a case in Canada. There had been an increase in missing persons in Toronto, mostly teenagers, and Dad thought they were dealing with Redcaps. They had grabbed the usual assortment of weapons, opting for the mixed silver bullets and consecrated iron rounds. Between the two, most supernatural creatures would stay down. Dean had also had his Bowie knife and an extra in his boot, just in case.

Feeling slightly ridiculous, Dean bent his knee and tried to reach into his boot with his bound hands while trying not to suffocate himself. He grinned as his fingers made contact with the handle. Whoever had taken him had been kind enough to leave his jacket on, allowing him to conceal the knife in a more accessible place—up his sleeve.

Glancing around his surroundings as best he could while chained prone on the cold, stone floor, Dean's heart plummeted. He was in a cell. From what he could remember, the Redcaps were definitely more of a rowdy bar bunch that liked to torture their victims out in the open for as long as they lasted, unless they decided to kill the victim immediately. Something else had taken him. His dad wouldn't know where to find him.

Before Dean could get into planning his escape, he heard a heavy door slide open behind him. Dean strained to look behind him, but a pointy-heeled shoe pressed his face into the ground.

"This is the human?" An amused female voice asked above him. She ground the heel of her shoe into his cheek as she asked. To Dean's chagrin, a hiss of pain escaped. He wasn't bleeding, but he would definitely have a bruise. Great, something else for Sammy to tease him about, like it wasn't bad enough that some supernatural fugly had caught him to begin with.

Dean assumed something had given an affirmative answer because the foot pushed off his face and was replaced by a black hood. The hood was tugged down, tied shut, and from the clicking noise, locked to his collar. Dean struggled to control his panic as his sight was taken away and breathing became significantly more difficult through the hood's thick material.

The woman laughed cruelly as the chain connecting Dean's collar to the floor was unlocked and he was hauled roughly to his feet. "Scared, little human? Don't worry, it'll all be over soon," She mocked as he was manhandled out of the cell.

**SPNLGSPNLGSPNLGSPNLGSPNLGSPNLGSPNLGSPNLG**

"We haven't had time to interrogate him, yet," The Morrigan announced as she approached The Ash, arms crossed and clearly not happy about the Light making demands about her prisoner.

The Ash simply nodded, unaffected by The Morrigan's anger. "The human has a family that is already searching for him. It appears he escaped from the Redcaps. This is messy."

The Morrigan's eyes narrowed, clearly not pleased with being blamed for the situation. "He was found a few blocks away from the site where all of the Redcaps were murdered. He had a gun with silver and consecrated iron bullets and a hunting knife. I think it's clear he was involved."

"Bring him in, we will find the answers we seek," The Ash's deep voice replied, gesturing toward the door. The new information about the kid's weapons didn't bode well. If he was a hunter, the father probably was as well. Drawing the attention of hunters never ended well.

Two of the Dark Fae dragged a resisting human into the room. A dark hood covered his head, attached to a locked metal collar, and his hands were shackled behind his back. Manacles bound his ankles, limiting his stride. Despite the restraints and the painful grip of the guards, the kid was putting up quite a fight. He nearly dislodged their grips several times. He was tall, probably around six feet, and strong. One of the guards grabbed the back of the collar and pulled, causing the human to gasp and stop fighting as he struggled to breathe.

The guards shoved the kid into a metal chair in the middle of the room, pulling his arms over the back of the chair as they forced him down. They attached the shackles to a loop on the back of the chair, securing them in the uncomfortable position. They also attached the collar to the back of the chair and his ankles to the chair legs. Once he was secured, a guard unlocked the hood from the collar and pulled it off.

It was definitely the kid from the picture. His green eyes stared defiantly at his captors and his jaw was clenched. He had long eyelashes and symmetrical features. Dyson had no doubt the kid had no problem finding dates. Despite this, if Dyson couldn't smell the fear pouring off the kid, he would be intimidated. Dyson had no doubt if he wasn't chained down, the kid would have no problem killing his way out, or at least trying to. He was almost certainly a hunter.

Then, the kid's eyes landed on The Morrigan. "You know, if you wanted to tie me up, all you had to do was ask," the kid leered. Dyson resisted the urge to groan. The kid had balls, but he was an idiot. The Morrigan would eat him alive for that. Still, it was admirable that, despite the fear Dyson could still smell from him, the kid's voice remained even and a bit cocky.

The Morrigan backhanded him, causing the kid's head to snap to the side. The kid chuckled as blood dripped from his split lip, further infuriating The Morrigan. Before she could do anything further, The Ash rumbled, "Do you know who we are, boy?"

"Supernatural sons of bitches that get their kicks by eating people?" The kid snarked. He had a death wish. That was the only explanation. Even if he was a hunter, he had to know that taunting his captors would end badly. Next to him, Hale was trying to suppress a laugh.

The kid noticed. He grinned back at Hale, "Okay, okay, I'll play along. Who are you? Or, more specifically, what are you?"

"We will be asking the questions, human," The Morrigan cut in, throwing the kid a glare that could make even a fae cry. The kid just cocked an eyebrow, inviting the questions to begin.

Taking a breath to regain her composure, The Morrigan asked, "Why did you kill my men?"

Dean affected bewildered innocence. "I don't know what you're talking about. I would never kill someone." The sincerity of the expression was convincing. If the kid had led with that, he might have actually stood a chance of getting away with killing fae.

"Really," The Morrigan drawled, disbelieving, "So what were you doing in their home, armed?"

"I wasn't. I decided to explore Toronto, 'cause I'm not from around here, and someone grabbed me," Dean explained earnestly, "I woke up strapped to a board, upside down, in the middle of a bar, surrounded by dudes in red beanies. With blood dripping down their faces. I remembered stories about Redcaps because I knew this nerdy guy when I was younger who loved mythology and folklore and all that. I did have a knife because my dad was a Marine and he's really into self-defense, so I cut the ropes and ran. On my way out, I saw a gun so I grabbed it. Figured I might need it if they tried to grab me again."

Dyson was impressed. The kid was a good liar, his story was actually plausible. The only glaring hole was that any normal human would be freaking out about the existence of the fae, not snarking and immediately classifying his new captors as supernatural.

The Ash continued to stare at the kid serenely. "You're lying," He announced throatily. The kid's eyes flashed with despair for a moment before he got it back under control. He knew exactly how screwed he was. The Ash continued, "Do you hunt alone?"

For the first time, indecision played clearly across the kid's face. Dyson glanced at Hale, who looked concerned. The Ash knew the kid's father was in town and searching for him, but he didn't know about the kid's younger brother. If it was just his dad, Dyson was almost certain the kid would tell them, confident in his father's abilities to fight the supernatural and wanting his captors to know that he couldn't disappear easily. The kid adopted a puzzled look, eyebrows furrowing, "I go hunting with my dad sometimes. Deer mostly. I did get a bear once, though. Was I wrong about those guys being Redcaps? Were they just crazies? Is this some sort of PETA thing? I'm sorry, I really love cheeseburgers, won't stop eating them. Especially ones with bacon. Unless you're offering a lifetime supply of pie, because pie is the only thing better than burgers."

Beside him, Hale snorted. Dyson felt himself grinning, too. The kid definitely had balls. Dyson couldn't help being impressed. Hell, he was really starting to like the kid. The Fae leaders, unfortunately, were less amused. The Morrigan stepped toward the kid again, causing him to flinch. Smirking, she raised her right foot onto the chair and pressed down between the kid's legs. He grunted in pain. Dyson winced in sympathy and saw Hale do the same. "This'll go a lot easier for you if you stop lying."

Grimacing in pain, the kid shook his head, "I don't know what you want from me. I don't know what you're talking about and you can forget about me switching to friggin rabbit food."

Stomping down harder, The Morrigan asked, "Let me clarify. We know you're a hunter. We know you killed the Redcaps. What we don't know is how many of you there are."

The involuntary tears rolling down his cheeks lessened the effectiveness of the kid's smirk as he replied, "Oh, honey, I'm one of a kind."

Hale snorted again, drawing glares from nearly everyone but Dyson. The kid had a smug look, pleased to be entertaining someone. Taking a calming breath, The Morrigan ground out, "Fine. Have it your way. We'll just kill anyone you've associated with since you arrived in Toronto. Goodbye, stupid human."

The Morrigan raised her hand, clearly intending to melt the kid into a pile of goo. The kid began struggling in earnest, managing to tip the chair over, dislocating one of his shoulders and banging his head against the ground. In this new and even less comfortable position, the kid's hands were near The Morrigan's ankle. Before anyone could register what was happening, the kid pulled a knife from his sleeve and slashed The Morrigan's Achilles tendon. The loops welded to the back of the chair that had secured his arms and collar had both snapped on impact. The kid threw his legs out, sweeping the chair under the legs of the approaching guards and grunting in pain as the cuffs dug into his ankles and the momentum nearly hyper extended his knees. As he snapped his legs back again, hitting the guards who were in the process of sitting up, the loops holding the manacles snapped as well.

Unfortunately for the kid, the manacles were still chained together, seriously inhibiting his stride as he attempted to flee from the room. The Ash ordered Dyson to stop the kid and Dyson chased after him reluctantly. The kid nearly made it to the door when Dyson grabbed him. However, the kid was still white knuckling the knife and slashed at Dyson, causing the wolf to shove the kid away, face-first into the wall. The kid turned, disoriented, trying desperately not to pass out. Tears of frustration and defeat leaked out as Dyson took the knife and led the kid back over to the chair.

All fight seemed to leave the kid as Dyson shoved him into the righted chair. Dyson remained behind the kid, holding him down so he wouldn't try to escape again. The kid's head remained bowed in defeat. He was trembling slightly and the smell of fear grew stronger. Suddenly, the kid's head snapped up and his voice was tight, "If you're going to kill me, just do it already."

The Morrigan raised her hand again, happy to oblige the human who dared harm her. The Ash stepped in, "Stop." To the kid, he rasped, "We are not going to kill you, not yet. Your skills are impressive, young hunter. Did your father teach you?"

The kid stiffened under Dyson's grip at the mention of his father and Hale's eyes filled with guilt. Hale liked the kid, too, and seemed to regret letting Dyson bring the case to The Ash's attention. The kid replied angrily, "Leave my dad out of it."

"So that's a yes," The Morrigan glared, daring the kid to contradict her. Dyson felt the kid's trembling increase, though he couldn't tell if it was from fear or anger.

"No," the kid growled coldly in contradiction, "That's a 'leave my dad the hell out of it.'"

The Ash tilted his head slightly, "We will gladly leave your father out of this if you tell us who trained you, how many hunters are in town, and where we can find them."

The kid laughed incredulously. Dyson was certain that the kid rolled his eyes, but couldn't tell from his position behind the kid. "Right. Like I'm going to believe the psychos who chained me to a friggin chair. Never should've agreed to a friggin vacation to friggin Canada. Friggin hate Canada."

Dyson squeezed the kid's right shoulder, the one that wasn't dislocated, in an attempt to comfort him. He muttered, "Just answer the questions, kid. They aren't going to kill anyone and they already know about your dad."

The kid actually growled ferally as he attempted to dislodge Dyson's grip. The Ash turned to Hale, gesturing for him to use his Siren abilities to get the kid to start telling the truth. Guilt flooding his eyes, Hale whistled, hypnotizing the kid.

The Ash repeated his questions. In a trance, the kid replied, "My dad trained me. We're the only hunters in town. He's in—"

The kid cut himself off before revealing the location of his father and, undoubtedly, his younger brother. He struggled weakly and Hale's eyes widened in alarm as he yelled "Stop him!"

Dyson's brows furred in confusion and he twisted around to see the kid from the front. The crazy kid was trying to bite his own tongue off. Dyson pried the kid's jaw open and looked for something they could use as a gag so he couldn't succeed in mutilating himself. With nothing nearby and no one coming to help, Dyson pulled off his thin leather belt and stuck it into the kid's mouth, tightening it behind his head.

The Ash and The Morrigan both looked displeased with the circumstances, but decided they had heard all that they could. The Morrigan, predictably, demanded the kid's death, along with his father's. The Ash countered, "The hunters would not have come if not for the Redcaps' sloppy kills. It was your failure to control them, to clean up, which led to their arrival. Why should the hunter suffer for cleaning up your mess?"

"You can't seriously be considering releasing him!" The Morrigan exclaimed incredulously, "He knows about us. If you let him go, he'll gather his hunter friends and attack all of us. That's bad for all Fae."

The Ash calmly replied, "I have no intention of releasing him." The kid's trembling increased. Dyson figured the kid imagined he would be locked away forever, used as a food source. It wasn't far from what Dyson thought would happen. The Ash continued, "He will make a choice. He can be imprisoned in the catacombs until his natural death, or he can enter our service."

"What do you mean, enter your service?" the kid asked skeptically, "I'm not working for supernatural creatures."

"You choose the catacombs, then?" The Ash asked, eyes burning into the kid.

"Honestly," the kid bit out, "I think I prefer the chick's idea. Just kill me."

The Morrigan smiled cruelly, "Oh, but its no fun if you want to die, kid. That option is off the table."

The kid swore viciously, surprising Dyson with his vocabulary. He was definitely raised by a hunter. When he finished, The Ash proposed, "If you choose to serve, you will be free to leave with your father. Convince him that you killed the Redcap that caught you and he may live. In exchange, when we call, you will come. You will help us deal with anyone who steps outside of Fae Law. Either side may call upon you. Do you agree?"

"How long?" The kid asked reluctantly, voice shaking. The Ash smiled, sensing victory, "Until you die. We can, of course, limit our requests until you are older. Would a maximum of three hunts at our behest each year until you are twenty-one, and an unlimited number thereafter? And, of course, you will be required to keep our presence, and this agreement, secret."

"Deal," the kid replied hollowly, sounding like he believed he had just signed away his soul. The Ash and The Morrigan each retrieved a leather wristband, marked with the symbols of the Light Fae and Dark Fae respectively. Dyson allowed the kid to stand and the Fae leaders attached the wristbands to each wrist. They sealed themselves, making them impossible to remove. Dyson definitely liked the kid. He had just sold himself into slavery to protect his family, honorable even in defeat.

**TBC**


End file.
